


Love Always, Yours Forever

by butterflyslinky



Series: Forever and Always [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Depression, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fíli and Kíli Are Little Shits, Glóin's A+ Parenting, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Thranduil's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tauriel, Fili and Kili pull a prank on Gimli and Legolas, who respond in kind. Things go a little too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Always, Yours Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this prompt at the Hobbit Kink Meme: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/13429.html?thread=25158005#t25158005. Came out angstier than probably intended due to lack of sleep while writing.

_Dear Gimli,_

_You are the light of the stars made manifest on earth. If only I could capture your beauty eternal in my mind, to take with me throughout the long years. If only I could have the freedom to touch and look without our father’s hatred looming over us._

_I do not expect your affections returned, but I wish you to know that I admire you greatly. Indeed, I may come to love you in time, if our paths should cross too often. I both pray for and dread more meetings, for I feel I shall fall farther than I’ve ever seen._

_Yours forever,_

_Legolas._

The princes of Erebor were idiots. Absolute idiots.

As if Gimli was stupid enough to fall for such a prank! After all, what would an elven prince ever want with him? Sure, by dwarvish standards Gimli was destined to grow into a very fine man, but right now he was still a bit weedy and gangly, just out of adolescence and more awkward than teatime with Azog.

And Legolas…well, Legolas could do so much better. Even from the few meetings they’d had, Gimli could see that.

So when Gimli received a letter than basically boiled down to an extremely passionate declaration of love, he didn’t believe Legolas was behind it for a moment, though at least those thrice-cursed princes had made an effort to disguise their handwriting. Or maybe they’d gotten Kili’s…friend? Lover? Betrothed? Gimli wasn’t too clear on that point…to write it for them.

Gimli considered confronting them about it, but that wouldn’t be fun at all.

No, this was going to take something a bit more creative.

*

_Dear Legolas,_

_The sun and moon may rise and fall, but I know I have fallen forever. You are the brightest light in these dark tunnels, the greatest bane on my poor heart, and I wish that I could know you better._

_Alas that you are the son and prince of my father’s greatest enemy! My only love, the son of my only hate! But rest assured, I do not hate as my father does, and if all elves prove to be as you are, we may find a new peace between our peoples._

_But for now, I will be content to admire your shining grace, and to hope you can look upon a common dwarf with even a fraction of my affection._

_Love always,_

_Gimli._

Legolas was confused. Of all the dwarves he had met in Erebor on this most recent “diplomatic meeting” (which seemed more like an overblown dick-waving contest), Gimli, son of Gloin, was the last one he would expect to write what appeared to be poetry.

Then again, their interactions thus far had hardly been notable, consisting of a few polite greetings and occasional sympathetic looks when their respective kin were getting out of hand. For all Legolas knew, the awkward barely adult was secretly a great romantic at heart.

Though he didn’t think it was likely. Still, there was only one way to find out. Legolas made absolutely sure his father was busy negotiating (read: posturing) with Thorin before he slipped off down the great halls of Erebor to find his apparent would-be suitor and try to let him down gently.

To his immense surprise, he bumped into Gimli not two turns later. Well. Stumbled on him. Elves don’t bump into people. And they certainly don’t fall backwards when they do. Nope. Legolas did not fall over. He just. Sat down. Yes. Because it had been a tiring day.

Gimli looked vastly amused. “Are you all right, Your Highness?” he asked with just a trace of sarcasm.

“Yes,” Legolas said, getting to his feet easily. “Forgive me.” He looked down at the dwarf, all wild red hair and too-young posturing. “Actually, this is quite fortunate. I was coming to find you anyway.”

Gimli snorted. “Thought you might be,” he said. “My blasted cousins got to you too, didn’t they?”

Legolas blinked. “Cousins?” he asked. 

“Fili and Kili,” Gimli elaborated. “They think they’re funny and like causing trouble.” He nodded at the letter still clutched in Legolas’s hand. “Let me guess—that’s supposed to be from me and it’s praising your grace and beauty and all that shit, isn’t it?”

“Um…yes,” Legolas said, a bit taken aback.

“They sent me one, too,” Gimli explained. “As if I couldn’t recognize their writing style, even if they got someone else to put it to paper.”

“Right…” Legolas said, more confused than ever. “So…you’re not trying to win me over and write the greatest forbidden love story to ever grace the Lonely Mountain?”

Gimli smirked. “No,” he said. “But my cousins don’t need to know that.” He grinned up at Legolas. “That is, if you’re interested in getting them back.”

Legolas raised his eyebrows. “I’m listening.”

*

Tauriel had been amused by the prince’s idea to make their cousin and her former lord mildly uncomfortable and had been a willing accessory to the prank, even if she knew it would never work. Legolas was far too clever to be taken in by such a ruse.

So she was immensely surprised when there was a knock on her door and Gimli came in, looking shyly at the floor.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, sure that she was about to get a lot of tears about betrayal and false promises.

But Gimli only glanced up shyly. “I wanted to know about elvish courting,” he said. 

Tauriel blinked. “Um…any particular reason why?” she asked cautiously.

“Because I want to court an elf,” Gimli said as though it were obvious. “And I wanted to know how to do it properly. I mean, obviously I’ll still put in the work of the courting gifts and hall that’s expected of my people, but I want to be absolutely sure that they know what I’m up to.”

“Um…” Tauriel was at a loss. “Does this elf know of your affections?”

“I think so,” Gimli said, his eyes comically wide. “He sent a very pretty letter and…and I figured I’d respond in kind. He’s so beautiful, see, and I want to do right by him, so I figured I’d initiate with the courting gift, but I’m not sure what elves do, or what sort of thing I should make for him, and you’re the only elf I can really talk to about it since you’re the only elf who’s ever courted a dwarf before.”

Tauriel felt the heat rising in her cheeks. The boys had assured her that the letters would be harmless, maybe a day or two of awkward glances but nothing beyond that. They’d never expected Gimli to take it seriously!

“Um, Gimli, there’s something you should know…” Tauriel began.

“Yes?” Gimli asked, and his face was so hopeful and eager that Tauriel couldn’t bear to break his little heart. Bless him.

“Elves don’t really have courtship rituals,” she said. Maybe she should let him make his proposal and have a willfully ignorant Legolas simply reject him. It would hurt, but that wouldn’t be her fault. “We’re so long-lived that we don’t bother—when we meet the person we want to marry, we just do it. Maybe write some poetry, but we don’t mess about with courting gifts or great halls or anything like that.”

“Oh.” Gimli’s face fell. “So…I should just ask him?”

“Well, I’m sure your people would expect you to court him in dwarvish fashion,” she said. “And who knows? He might even enjoy it.” She tried to smile, though it came out more like a grimace. “So…what sort of gifts did you have in mind? Because let me tell you, if you give him anything as ridiculous as what Kili tried to give me, you’ll probably get a quick refusal.”

“Hair clasps,” Gimli said. “Laid in with sapphires to match his eyes.” He gazed off dreamily and Tauriel felt worse than she’d ever known in her half millennium of life.

*

Tauriel came into the princes’ shared office, looking dazed and shocked. Fili and Kili immediately stopped their discussion of how to shake up tomorrow’s endless meetings and looked at her. “What’s the matter, ghivashel?” Kili asked.

“Your cousin is making courting gifts,” she said bluntly.

Fili looked at her, wide-eyed. “Courting gifts?” he repeated. “But…who are they for?”

“Legolas, I think,” she said. “A male elf, certainly. One who wrote him a pretty letter. He was asking me about elvish courting.”

Fili and Kili looked at each other in horror. “But…that letter wasn’t real!” Kili said.

“Yes, I remember,” Tauriel said. “And so far, Legolas hasn’t said anything to me about the other one. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell Gimli it was a joke.”

“So you’ll just have his heart be thoroughly shattered?” Fili asked, aghast. “Have him humiliated in front of the entire court? Tauriel, dwarvish courting isn’t something to be taken lightly. If Gimli’s gone and fallen in love with Legolas and Legolas rejects him, it could destroy him forever!”

“I know that!” Tauriel snapped. “But would telling him the truth have been any better?”

“Would have saved him the trouble of a trip to the forges,” Fili pointed out. “And at least then he could grieve in peace instead of having everyone know about it!”

“He looked so happy!” she said. “So certain about it! I wasn’t going to let him know his own cousins were playing games with his heart!”

“She has a point,” Kili mumbled. 

Fili gave his brother a hard look. “And what are you going to do when Gimli gets rejected in front of every elf, dwarf and man in the mountain?”

“He’s young,” Tauriel said. “He’ll get over it.”

“Dwarves don’t get over things like this,” Fili said. “We only love once, and it’s so deep that if it’s unrequited, we will never even seek the companionship of another.”

“Would you rather get in trouble with Uncle?” Kili asked. “He’ll beat us round the head if he finds out about this!”

“It wasn’t supposed to go this far,” Fili moaned. “Maybe we should stop him.”

Kili and Tauriel exchanged a look. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” Kili said.

*

In spite of Fili’s objections, the three of them held their tongues over the next few days. It was fairly easy to do, since Fili and Kili were expected to attend most of the diplomatic meetings and Gimli had vanished into the forges. Gloin had expressed concern over this, saying that Gimli had asked for a rather exorbitant sum of money for his current project. Fili and Kili had exchanged guilty looks but said nothing. Gloin was even scarier than Thorin when Gimli’s well-being was involved.

Legolas was also in the diplomatic meetings, though he seemed to have mastered his father’s trick of remaining absolutely expressionless throughout, only flinching when Thorin and Thranduil started being especially catty with each other. No matter how hard they tried, Fili and Kili couldn’t quite gauge if Legolas knew about Gimli’s apparent affections, and neither could quite gather the courage to ask.

Tauriel did her best to keep an eye on Gimli, under the pretext of telling him if his yet-unnamed elf would like the hair clasps he was forging, and she reported that he remained as utterly smitten as ever. “It would be adorable if I didn’t know it was leading to tragedy,” she commented. Fili and Kili glumly agreed.

This went on for nearly two weeks, during which time Fili and Kili subtly tried to speed up the negotiations in the hopes that the elves would leave before Gimli had finished his gift, thusly stopping the proposal in its tracks. However, both had underestimated the stubbornness of both their uncle and the elven king, so at the end of those two weeks, they were no closer to reaching a suitable agreement, which meant the elves would be remaining in Erebor for at least another month, if not longer.

It was at the end of that second week that Gimli came into the feast hall just before dinner, clutching something in his broad fist, and walked deliberately over to the high table, where Thorin had grudgingly allowed Dori and Balin to seat the elvish party. Gimli went straight to Legolas’s seat and knelt in front of the elvish prince.

“Prince Legolas,” Gimli said, in a loud but shaking voice. “I know that we have not been very well-acquainted, but I have known ever since we met that you are my One, and I would like to present to you this gift, as a token of my intent, and in the hopes that you will accept my court.” He opened his palm to reveal a beautiful butterfly-shaped hair clasp, laid in with gold and sapphires, as well-made as any gift that had ever been imparted.

There was a loud crash as Gloin knocked over a wine goblet, but the court was too shocked to notice. Fili, Kili and Tauriel all braced themselves, preparing to either rush to Gimli’s comfort or disappear forever, they hadn’t decided which yet.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Legolas reach out and his fingers brushed the clasp. Then he looked into Gimli’s wide, hopeful eyes and smiled. “I accept your court,” Legolas announced, his voice soft but still carrying through the silent hall. “Please…would you do me the honor of placing your clasp in my hair?”

There was a second, much louder crash and Thranduil fainted off of his chair. No one seemed interested in helping him, too transfixed as Gimli grinned widely, standing up as Legolas ducked his head, and starting to weave a courting braid into the golden hair.

Fili, Kili and Tauriel all exchanged amazed looks as Gimli finished the braid and placed the clasp at the end. It did look very nice in Legolas’s hair, if they did say so.

Once done, Gimli and Legolas remained as they were, staring besotted into each other’s eyes and grinning like fools, before the entire hall erupted into chaos, elves and dwarves alike shouting objections and insults at each other. Gimli and Legolas ignored them, their hands now entwined, too lost in each other to notice how Gloin started roaring about elven enchantments and several elves began shrieking back about impropriety, and that was when Tauriel and the dwarven princes decided it was a good chance to beat a hasty retreat.

*

Several hours later, after the initial ruckus had died down, Legolas and Gimli finally managed to escaped their shocked and furious fathers and slip off to an empty office that no one had claimed yet, where they promptly burst out laughing.

“Did you see their faces?” Gimli gasped. “Poor boys didn’t know what hit them!”

“And Tauriel, too,” Legolas said. “I wasn’t sure she was involved before, but now I’m certain of it. I almost feel bad for them.”

“Don’t,” Gimli said. “They started this mess, now they have to live with it.” He managed to catch his breath. “So how long do you want to keep this going?”

“Until I return to the Greenwood,” Legolas said. “That way we’ll be able to break it off easily due to the distance and the whole thing will be dismissed as a youthful dalliance.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gimli said. “I’ll even let you keep the clip and whatever else I end up making.”

“Very kind, I’m sure,” Legolas said. He fingered his new braid. “Though this is very good. I didn’t expect you to put so much effort into a false courting gift.”

“Tauriel was watching,” Gimli explained with a shrug. “And she knows a little bit about dwarvish courting, so I couldn’t half ass it without her getting suspicious. Besides, my father has money since taking back the mountain. This hardly put a dent in his savings.”

“Well, I thank you, anyway,” Legolas said. “I suppose I’m expected to give something in return?”

“If you wish,” Gimli said. “Though it’s not really expected since elves do things differently. However, we will need to be seen together, looking ridiculously in love.”

“I can do that,” Legolas assured him. “Seeing my father lose his composure is worth it, even if we weren’t also confusing the princes. How far are we allowed to go in public?”

“No further than holding hands,” Gimli said. “And I can guarantee that as soon as he’s regained his senses, my father will be sending someone to chaperone us at all times to make sure we don’t do anything improper.”

Legolas smiled. “Well, then,” he said. “I suppose I should say good night before that assignment is made.” He bent and kissed Gimli’s hand before turning and disappearing down the hall.

Gimli tried not to blush.

*

Fili, Kili and Tauriel sat in the princes’ office in stunned silence.

Finally, Tauriel spoke up. “Do you suppose we should tell them?” she asked tentatively.

“I don’t think it will do much good,” Kili said. “I mean…that was a perfect proposal on Gimli’s part. And they looked so deeply in love…” He shrugged helplessly. “I’d hate to break that up. Especially since everyone made such a fuss over it.”

“So we’re supposed to let them go through with this?” Fili asked. “Knowing that they’re only together because of a prank gone wrong?”

“Maybe it’ll be all right,” Kili said. “I mean…maybe we just pushed them in the right direction.”

“But what if they go through with it and end up being miserable forever?” Tauriel asked. “Then it will be entirely our fault that they rushed into things.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Kili said. “And if nothing else, I doubt their kings will grant them the permission to marry.”

“I don’t think that will stop them,” Fili muttered darkly.

*

If there was one thing Thorin didn’t need, it was for another complication to arise in his negotiations with the elves.

Unfortunately, Gimli seemed to have had other plans, and now he wasn’t just dealing with a stubborn, prissy, over-grown, cold, bitchy elf king.

No, now he had to deal with a stubborn, prissy, over-grown, cold, bitchy, and infuriated elf king, along with an equally infuriated Gloin.

“This will not stand!” Thranduil declared, leaning over the table. “I will not allow my son to marry a half-grown hairball!”

“That’s my son you’re referring to!” Gloin shouted back. “And I will not allow him to marry some pointy-eared treehugger!”

“That pointy-eared treehugger is a Prince of the Greenwood, not the offspring of some second-rate miner!”

“That clasp he gave your so-called prince is a masterwork of the highest order! Much more than an elf deserves…”

“It looks ridiculous and is entirely too large for elvish hair. Boy probably couldn’t calculate proportions if he was given proper help.”

“Not too big, the princeling is just too delicate for proper dwarvish finery.”

Thorin rubbed his temples. He felt that he should end this argument, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to intervene.

“Ridiculous, the whole thing. As if any elf would agree to live in a mountain.”

“As if any dwarf would propose to an elf if he wasn’t possessed. Is that it, you’re trying to gain the upper hand by bewitching my son?”

“Your son is of no importance. More likely you’ve bewitched mine!”

“ENOUGH!” Thorin finally roared. Gloin and Thranduil looked up at him, shocked. “Now, I know this is deeply shocking to both of you…”

Both of them made noises that indicated that Thorin was understating the issue.

“But they’re both adults and therefore not beholden to either of you.” Thorin smirked. “However, you are in agreement that the marriage should not take place. And as I recall, marriage is performed and decided by the king.” He looked to them both. “So, if you really want your sons to be separated, I will be happy to refuse the match.”

There was a moment of silence before Gloin spoke. “But…if Gimli really loves that…elf…separating them would break his heart. He might even run away!”

“Same with Legolas,” Thranduil said slowly. “Indeed, if they were forcibly separated for too long, he would fade away from grief.”

Thorin raised his eyebrows. “So you do not wish me to reject the match?”

Thranduil and Gloin both sighed. “I suppose I can learn to live with it,” Gloin said grudgingly. “If they don’t come to their senses before the ceremony is performed.”

“For love of my son, I will not interfere,” Thranduil grumbled. “Perhaps when we return to the Greenwood, he will realize his folly.”

Gloin nodded. Thorin sighed in relief.

“Good,” Thorin said. “Now, I believe we’ve all had a very long evening and have another long day ahead. Gloin, do you have a chaperone in mind for Gimli and…his betrothed?”

Gloin’s jaw tightened at the label, but he nodded. “I will see to it that they are properly watched,” he said.

*

Legolas had never thought of himself as a particularly good actor, but it probably helped that the person assigned to watching him and Gimli was Gimli’s extremely deaf uncle, who only seemed to hear them when he thought they were getting a bit too close. This allowed them to talk to each other without reserve, which was a bit of a relief, since they had to maintain a rather soppy façade around everyone else.

But really, dwarvish courting wasn’t too difficult to get through. It mostly consisted of sitting in parlors and holding hands and discussing minute details about their prospective life together, which included everything from how often they were to bed one another to how many plates they would keep to throw at each other during arguments.

And through these conversations, which were always had with a bit more passion whenever someone was listening, Legolas discovered quite a few things about his fake fiancé.

He learned that Gimli’s favorite gems were emeralds, and that he wielded a battle-axe nearly as well as his father (but he was working on that). He learned that he had spent his entire life in Erid Luin before the reclamation of Erebor, and that he was very resentful that he hadn’t been allowed to participate in the quest, being just over his coming of age. He learned about Gimli’s family, even if they still refused to speak to him any more than necessary, and Gimli’s childhood, his dreams and goals and everything else.

In return, Legolas told Gimli of his own life. He spoke of the Greenwood before the shadow came on it, of the merry days spent amongst the trees. He told tales of his father, and of Tauriel and the rest of his unit. He shared every mundane fact he could think of about his life, from his favorite flower to exactly how he took his tea. It was nice. Familiar, even, as the weeks wore on and their respective clans refused to come to any agreements. Legolas had the sneaking suspicion that the engagement was not helping matters, though no one actually said so.

But in spite of the continuing disapproval of just about everyone, Legolas found himself rather enjoying the time he spent with Gimli. If nothing else, it was nice to have a co-conspirator, someone to help him make the dwarven princes go rather red around the ears and Tauriel lose her cool. And really, Gimli wasn’t a bad sort at all. In fact, for a dwarf, he was quite nice.

His father, on the other hand, was not.

Legolas was actually surprised it took Gloin a whole week to corner him after one of the many ever-lengthening meetings. He tried not to look too intimidated when Gloin leaned over the now-empty table and glared at him.

“So,” Gloin said. “It seems the goblin mutant is worthy of you after all.”

Legolas blushed. “Forgive me,” he said. “My words then were brash and hurtful; I wish that I could take them back.”

Gloin glowered at him. “Words are not easily forgotten,” he said. “Especially insults against one so loved, and especially not by dwarves. We are stone and every hurt you give us is carved into our souls.”

“It was ill of me to speak so,” Legolas said, and he meant it. “I deeply regret the words. Please, do not hold them against me, not when I hold your son so dear.”

“It is of that matter that I would speak.” Gloin paused, giving Legolas a most intimidating look. “Now, I don’t know what has possessed my son to take you as his lover, but know this—dwarves love once and only once, and if you jilt him, it will be as good as firing an arrow through his heart. And if that happens, I will chop down every tree in every forest of Middle Earth until I find you, and then I will cut the pointy ears from your head and bring them home as trophies. Is that clear?”

Legolas looked into the dwarf’s eyes and felt his heart sink at the massive lie he was embroiled in. “Yes, sir,” he said, and regretted every word.

*

Gimli never had too many opportunities to be around Thranduil, which was probably a good thing, since the elf king had taken to drinking more wine than was probably good for him and had a vein in his temple that tended to twitch whenever Gimli was in his presence. Or maybe it did that for all dwarves, though Gimli never bothered to find out.

Still, it wasn’t too surprising when Thranduil asked to meet Gimli not long after the engagement was announced. Gimli answered the summons immediately, hoping Thranduil was going to be kind, though he had borrowed one of Fili’s knives just in case. Well…maybe borrowed was the wrong term, but Fili had started this mess so Gimli didn’t feel too guilty about it.

Thranduil was still drinking when Gimli came in, and the twitch in his forehead was more obvious than ever, but Gimli waited patiently for him to speak first.

It took a few minutes, but Thranduil finally began. “You are aware, I’m sure, that I am not over-thrilled with your engagement,” he said.

“My father has expressed similar sentiments,” Gimli said carefully.

“I’ve heard them,” Thranduil said. “However, we did agree not to interfere.”

“We’re very grateful, Your Majesty,” Gimli said as earnestly as he could.

Thranduil nodded imperiously. “But know this, Gimli, son of Gloin,” he continued. “Elves do not give their hearts lightly. Once a heart is given, it is given fully. My son is young by our standards, but he knows what he is doing. If he has given himself to you, then I cannot take him away. However, should you leave him, or should you die, he shall Fade away, as sure as the sun sets. Do you understand what that means?”

“I’ve heard of it,” Gimli said. “It means…he will die.”

“Yes,” Thranduil whispered. “It is not the fate I wished for him, but…it seems that it is what awaits him.” His eyes closed and for a moment, Gimli could see past the cold mask to the father beneath. “I cannot stop this from happening,” he went on. “But if it comes about because you used him and left him alone, if he should fade because you neglected or abandoned him, I will tear this mountain apart stone by stone until you are found, and I will have your beard. Is that understood?”

Gimli shifted uncomfortably, but nodded. “I understand,” he said.

“Good,” Thranduil said. “You are dismissed.”

*

Neither Legolas nor Gimli shared the warnings they had been given with the other. They both felt far too guilty about the grief they had heard in their fathers’ voices.

But neither could they quite bring themselves to end the charade. As the days wore on, they found that they true enjoyed each other’s’ company and neither was quite ready for it to end yet. Besides, it was still amusing to see Fili, Kili and Tauriel look so uncomfortable every time they were in the immediate vicinity.

Tauriel, Fili and Kili were less amused by this.

“It’s wrong!” Tauriel moaned. “We need to tell them it’s all built on a lie!”

“Do you really think they haven’t figured that out yet?” Fili asked. “I mean, they aren’t that stupid…they’ve probably discussed the letters, even if they don’t know we sent them. Probably figured it was a certain meddling wizard trying to bolster elf and dwarf relationships.”

“But what if they didn’t?” Kili asked. “What if they’re still laboring under the delusion that the other initiated contact and are just going through the motions? What if Legolas doesn’t actually love Gimli but is trying to gain an advantage in the negotiations? What if our cousin does get his heart broken in the end?”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Fili said. “But I seriously don’t think they could have come this far without discussing it.”

Kili and Tauriel groaned but didn’t object.

It ended up being a giant relief when a month after the engagement was announced, the negotiations finally came to an end. Everyone got the sense that Thranduil had pushed to hurry the process along so he could get Legolas back to the Greenwood, though whether it was to put together a suitable wedding retinue or force the engagement to end through distance no one was quite certain.

No matter the motives, it was a rather sickening scene by the gates the morning the elves were set to leave. Legolas and Gimli stood by the door for a good half-hour, sighing and saying goodbye and making spontaneous vows of fidelity for all to hear before a well-placed glare from Thranduil got Legolas onto his horse. The elves rode away with dignity, though Legolas kept glancing back at Gimli with the most heart-broken expression anyone could remember an elf ever wearing.

It would have been very touching if anyone else had supported them at all.

As soon as the elves were out of sight, Gimli heaved a sigh and walked back into the mountain. Fili and Kili followed, hoping that this would all go away now that Legolas was no longer there as a constant reminder.

*

_My dear Gimli,_

_I fear that I do not have the same gift of poetry as your cousins, so I hope this will suffice. I find that, even in our circumstances, I wish to continue our correspondence. You were a good and constant companion to me in Erebor, and I would not lose your friendship so soon._

_I still wear your courting gifts, for I find that I am not quite willing to confess to my father what we’ve done. After all the grief we caused him, I do not know how to broach the subject. ~~And I find that the more I think on the matter, the less I want to jilt you.~~_

_The forest is green again, and there is a lightness now that Mithrandir has cast out the shadow. I hope that it lasts._

_I’m sorry that I cannot write well. Please, give me conversation. I find that I still long for your presence, even knowing what the future holds for us._

_Yours,_

_Legolas._

*

_My dear Legolas,_

_If you do not have the same talents as my cousins, I am very glad. I do not think I could tolerate more than two of them, and even that is too much at times. And I am in agreement with you—I also wish to continue our friendship, even if the engagement does not go on. ~~I find that I almost want it to.~~_

_I am glad you have kept the gifts. They were made for you and only you, and I would not see them cast aside so readily. And I find that I am much the same with my own father. How can I tell him that I caused such an uproar purely to upset the princes?_

_I am glad your forest is lighter now. I only hope my mountain remains peaceful as well._

_I fear that I am as awkward at writing as you are. Indeed, I find myself at a loss for things I have not already told you ~~except that maybe I truly do love you and want to marry you after all.~~_

_Always,_

_Gimli._

*

Legolas was fading.

Thranduil could see it. It was slow, but certain, and he could not find the cause. His son still wore all the jewels that the dwarf had given him, still wrote to his intended regularly, still spoke of Gimli with love and desire, but still, Legolas faded.

He stopped eating a month after they had returned from Erebor. A month after that, he took to sleeping more than anything else. He stopped training, stopped leading patrols and raids into the forest. When Thranduil found him awake, he was always staring east toward the mountain, his eyes bright and far away. Thranduil couldn’t understand it. He hadn’t told Legolas to break off the engagement, though he had also made no move to see the wedding through.

After watching it for a month, Thranduil could stand it no longer. “My son,” he said. “What ails you so that you have lost the will to live?”

Legolas did not look away from the window. His face was ashen, his eyes shining with fever. He was thinner than ever, and did not appear to be able to stand even if he had the desire. But when Thranduil asked the question, he turned even paler. “I do not wish to burden you with my troubles,” he said.

“Legolas,” Thranduil said, his voice almost pleading. “I am your father. I wish to know what I can do to save you.”

At that, Legolas finally turned his head away from the window, his eyes bright with tears. “I’ve fallen in love with Gimli,” he said, the words coming out as a sob.

Thranduil blinked. “Yes…?”

“No,” Legolas said. “Really fallen for him.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “It was…the engagement…it wasn’t supposed to be real…the princes of Erebor, Fili and Kili…they thought to have some fun with us, and wrote love letters to me and Gimli, supposedly from each other…and we thought to get them back by making them think we really were in love…only…only it’s not a joke anymore…I love him, Ada…but he doesn’t love me.”

Thranduil’s hands clenched. Those whelps! After the speech he’d given Gimli, none of it was supposed to be real? And now Legolas was dying of grief for it.

Tears fell down Legolas’s face. Thranduil took his hands and knelt beside him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I shall write to Erebor immediately. Those princes will be punished.”

“Don’t go to war for me, Ada,” Legolas begged. “It’s my fault…I didn’t know when to pull away.”

“They must know,” Thranduil insisted. “Perhaps…perhaps we can still fix this.”

Legolas looked like he wanted to object, but his eyes closed and he slipped away into sleep again.

*

Gimli was ill. That much was immediately clear.

Gloin didn’t know what to do. Gimli was refusing meals, refusing sleep, instead electing to spend all his time outside, gazing wistfully toward the forest. Gloin knew he was thinking of his elven love, but really, it wasn’t like Gimli to pine this way.

Especially when as far as Gloin knew, his relationship with Legolas was still good. Then again, maybe something had happened. Perhaps the elf prince had jilted Gimli, or maybe Thranduil had put his foot down and ended the match? Either way, Gloin had to know.

He went up to where his son sat, pipe and weed in hand. He sat down silently beside Gimli and lit his pipe. Gimli barely acknowledged him, still staring avidly toward the forest.

After a few minutes, Gloin looked to Gimli. “What is it, lad?” he asked gently. “Has your prince rejected you?”

Gimli sighed. “Not as of yet,” he said quietly. “But I know it’s coming.” He sounded sad, but not shocked.

Gloin raised his eyebrows. “What makes you say that?” he asked. “You two seemed pretty smitten.”

“It was an act,” Gimli mumbled. “Fili and Kili pulled a prank on us…so we thought we’d get them back. So we faked an engagement mostly to raise hell…but…but now I find I don’t want it to end.” He looked to his father, his eyes full of tears. “I love him, Father. And…and I want to be with him. I know you don’t like him, but I know…he’s my One. I can’t live without him.”

Gloin stared, shocked for a moment, before he rose to his feet, his eyes bright with fury. “We’ll just see about that,” he muttered, and stomped back into the mountain.

“Father!” Gimli called, rising and chasing after him. “Please, don’t blame Fili and Kili! This was our doing…they didn’t mean for it to go this far. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“You’re sick, Gimli,” Gloin said. “And since I have been expressly forbidden from starting a war with Thranduil, I’m going to make sure that those responsible are held accountable!” He marched down to the throne room and barged in, fortunately not interrupting any major meetings. “FILI! KILI!”

The princes looked up from where they were talking to their uncle, both looking immensely guilty. “Yes?” Fili asked timidly.

Gloin gave Fili the most intimidating glare he could muster, which was enough to make the young prince shrink back. “Do you know what Gimli’s just been telling me?” he asked.

Thorin looked up from the paper he’d been reading. “Does it have to do with Gimli’s engagement to the elf prince?” His expression was already stormy.

“Yes,” Gloin said. “And how it was all because of a stupid prank your nephews saw fit to pull!”

“Oh, believe me,” Thorin said. “I’ve already heard about it.” He passed the paper to Gloin. “This came from the Greenwood this morning.”

Gloin took the letter and skimmed it quickly. His rage dissipated in an instant as he looked up to Thorin. “Dying?” he said in disbelief.

“That’s what the elf king says,” Thorin said. “It appears that this entire affair has caused his son to fade away from the knowledge his love is not returned.”

“But…”

Gimli caught up, out of breath. His father looked to him, sympathy in his eyes, and handed him the letter. Gimli took it with shaking hands and read the first few lines. “No…” he whispered. “No, he can’t…” He looked up. “Father…”

“Go to him,” Gloin said. “Take a pony and go to him. I feel certain Thranduil will let you in, if only to save his life.”

Gimli didn’t need telling twice. He clutched the letter in his hand and dashed out the door toward the stables.

As soon as he was gone, Thorin’s stormy expression turned back on his nephews. “DO YOU IDIOTS REALIZE WHAT YOU’VE DONE?!?!” he roared.

“We didn’t mean for it to go this far!” Kili protested.

“We thought they’d be slightly awkward for a few days!” Fili agreed. “We didn’t think they’d pull something like this!”

“THEY ALMOST DIED!” Gloin shouted. “YOU NEARLY KILLED THEM BOTH AND STARTED A WAR!”

The princes both whimpered. 

A lot of shouting followed from both Thorin and Gloin after that, but the long and short of it was that Fili and Kili were both to be confined to their rooms for the next two months. 

“Feel lucky it isn’t a year,” Thorin mumbled.

The princes hung their heads before they allowed the guards to escort them out.

*

Gimli road through the forest, not caring if he met anything on the way. He needed to get to the palace and quickly.

He met nothing on the way, though he could feel the presence of elves just out of sight. He assumed that they cleared his path, eager to see their prince well again.

Indeed, when he arrived at Thranduil’s palace a week later, the doors were opened to him immediately. Gimli practically fell from the pony and dashed inside.

Thranduil himself was waiting for him, his face drawn and pale. “You received my message?” he asked, his voice more desperate than Gimli could ever imagine it being.

“Yes,” Gimli said. “And I’ve come to return his affection.” He looked up at the elf king. “I’m sorry for the grief I’ve caused. I had no idea he felt the same for me that I do for him.”

Thranduil nodded. “Come,” he said.

He led Gimli through an intricate palace that seemed to be made from the trees themselves, but Gimli did not stop to admire the architecture. He merely followed Thranduil up the stairs to a light, airy room. At the window sat Legolas, looking so unwell that Gimli was amazed he hadn’t dropped dead already.

Gimli rushed to his side and knelt beside him. “Legolas,” he said, reaching out for his beloved’s hand.

Legolas turned his head. His eyes lit up when he saw Gimli, and at the first touch of his hand, a bit of color returned to the prince’s face. “Gimli?’ he whispered.

Gimli bowed his head and wept. “Legolas…I’m here,” he said. “I’m here…and I love you…please don’t fade…don’t leave me…I love you…I’m sorry I let it go that far, I didn’t realize…”

Legolas raised his other hand and ran it through Gimli’s red hair. “You’re here,” he whispered. “Gimli, melleth…my love…my dearest love…”

Gimli looked up, his face wet with tears. “Please,” he said. “Stay with me.”

Legolas smiled, seeming to gain strength with every word. “Yes,” he said. “Forever.”

Gimli smiled back and lurched up. Their lips met in a kiss, hands tangling in each other’s hair.

Thranduil breathed a sigh of relief and quietly closed the door.


End file.
